Victimization
by Emma CS Me
Summary: Will is a bad drunk. Kurt learns this painfully.
1. Earthquake

**A/N:** Written for the glee_angst_meme over on LJ. The prompt was: "For some reason Will gets drunk and Kurt finds him like that. He can't help himself but make a couple of snappy comments. Will is NOT pleased, he attacks Kurt, says things he should not say (~why don't I give you solos? Maybe if you were normal and not such a prissy little homo, you'd get some~) and maybe even attempts to sexually assault Kurt. Despite being absolutely terrified, somehow, Kurt manages to escape. The next day Will does not remember a thing and Kurt? Goes on with his life, because that's what he does and if he's borderline rude to Will all the time? What is Will gonna do? Take away his solos? Ha. Ha. Ha." -

**1: EARTHQUAKE**

He only takes in a deep breath when he finds Mr. Schuester slumped over an auditorium chair, bottle of whiskey in hand and half-unconscious. He sighs deeply, and walks over to where the older man is, shaking his shoulder.

"Hey, Mr. Schue," he says, and it comes out more curt than he intended, "Wake up. Come on. You're passed out drunk in the middle of the auditorium; that can't be good – you'll get fire. Come on, let's get you home."

This whole plan is rather hampered by the fact Will is drunk off his ass and can't possibly drive himself home, and probably won't even remember the directions, and Kurt has no idea where Mr. Schue lives. He really doesn't think he's meant to. However, he's not really thinking this plan through – in a pinch, he thinks Ms. Pilsbury will help him.

"Kurt?" Mr. Schuester opens his eyes, hazy and unfocused, like he's still trying to remember who Kurt is and if he has any right to be here. "Why are you here?"

Kurt sighs. "Trying to get you _not_ fired for being drunk off your ass at school, even if it did just end. Come _on_, Schue, go _home_."

"Fuck off," Schue mutters, then laughs. "What home again?"

Kurt can't help but roll his eyes. "Okay, you left your wife. Sucks. Whatever; can you hold the broody drunken angst until you're somewhere is won't destroy your entire life even further?"

Schuester takes that comment to heart, leaping up straight and pulling Kurt towards him by his shirt. "Don't you dare talk about my wife," he says angrily, spit landing on Kurt face. The younger boy winces. It didn't really hurt, but Mr. Schue is angry and starting to scare him.

"Okay, uh, Schue. Think about this," he says, trying to maintain a casual tone, "You are physically intimidating a student. Pushing aside the illegality, do you really think it's something you'd do when you're sober?"

Mr. Schuester laughs loudly, and only grasps Kurt's sweater harder. Kurt vaguely considers that this sweater is Alexander McQueen, and Mr. Schue might just wreck it, but he's actually scared for his own safety now so he's not paying that much attention to the sweater (and when Kurt is ignoring his clothes, things are _serious_.)

Then Mr. Schue throws him to the ground with a violent force one would not expect from how drunk he is – Kurt feels his head hit the cold linoleum floor; feels his hands whack against the sides of the steps, guaranteeing bruising. "Ow!" he cries out, taking in two deep breathes to calm himself. He forces himself to sit up on his still-stinging hands. "Mr. Schue, please calm down," he says, all confidence gone – he's terrified and not scared it Schuester knows it.

"God. Look at you," Schue says, almost sympathetically, and crouches down. For a second, Kurt thinks he's realized what the fuck he's doing, and is going to stop. "You're pathetic," he says bitterly, slurring the word 'pathetic', and Kurt looks down.

"Am not," he says, then raises his head back up again defiantly. "I'm not the one who's wasted off my ass and taking out my issues on the kid who has nothing to with any of it, so on the screwed-up-ometer? I'm doing okay."

He honestly _wasn't_ expecting the punch Mr. Schuester brought to his face, because he's stupid like that. He feels the bones in his nose crack and the blood gushes out, getting on his clothes and face. "Ow! Fuck! What is _wrong_ with you?" he asks, and Schue only responds by punching him again from the side of his face.

Kurt falls to the ground again under the force of the impact, holding his nose to try and stem the flow. He says the only thing he can think of to – "Mr. Schue, you are _destroying_ this sweater! Do you have _any_ idea how hard it is to get blood stains out?" he hopes that acting unintimidated will somehow cause Schuester to stop, either by making him gain respect or just lose interest, like they always said you should do with bullies in elementary school.

It doesn't have the desired effect. "Of course. Prissy little fag can't _bare_ to harm his fucking sweater," Schuester says, and Kurt flinches – this can't really be happening. Mr. Schue is drunk out of his mind, and that is the only reason this is happening – the real Mr. Schue is a great teacher, and general one of the kindest, most tolerant people Kurt knows – he wouldn't be doing this.

Then Mr. Schue abruptly grabs for it, and tears the sweater off Kurt like in was make out of cotton wool. Kurt stares at the pieces of fabric in his teacher's hands, and makes a small, anguished noise. "You destroyed it!" he calls out, for a second breaking through his blind panic in defense of his clothes. Then the cold November weather catches up to him and he shivers, because he really needed that sweater.

Mr. Schue shakes his head. "So what? Come on, Kurt – I beat you up, I said discriminatory things," and Schue's really too drunk for the word 'discriminatory', but he tries, "But no, you get all worked up about your _clothes_. Way to defy a stereotype there, Kurt."

Kurt swallows deeply and sits up abruptly. "I'm going," he says. "You can drink yourself to death for all I care," he says, and turns of his heel to leave. However, Mr. Schue does not let that stand, and punches him to the floor again.

"Stay down!" he yells, and Kurt whimpers. His blood is in splatters on the floor, and the very sight of it is making him sicker and sicker. He lies there on the floor, scared out of his mind, until Mr. Schuester comes and lays on the floor with him.

"What are you doing?" he asks, as Mr. Schue runs his hand over the thin cotton of Kurt's shirt. "Schue?" he asks, whimpering, and Schuester laughs in his ear again.

"Come on, Kurt," Schuester murmurs, moving his body until he's practically lying _on top_ of Kurt. "You like guys. I'm a guy. What's the problem?"

"You're a teacher..." Kurt says quietly, as Schuester hand begins to travel up and down his ribcage, like an incredibly fucked up game of Itsy Bitsy Spider. Kurt gulps. "You just hit me, you're a teacher, I don't even like you that way; God, please Schue, don't make me do this."

Schuester snorts. "Oh, shut up. You're always whining like this – hell, maybe if you finally get some you'll stop pissing me off so much, or drooling over Finn when I need you to rehearse," and Kurt flinches when Schue brings up Finn. That's not fair.

"Please, stop," Kurt mutters, as Schuester's hand travels further south, towards what Kurt most definitely does _not_ want him touching.

"Stop me."

This is the moment where Kurt should freak the fuck out, scream for help, and fight back with teeth and fists and nails and whatever will get this bastard the fuck _off_ him. But everything inside him is frozen in fear, and he can't say why, because he wants so desperately to escape but he can't make himself try it.

"You're not going to stop me, are you?" Schuester asks, breath hot on Kurt's ear, and the boy whimpers in fear while he feels his stomach lurch.

Shuester's hand is still scrunching and unscrunching the hem of Kurt's shirt, dangerously close to the zip of his jeans. Then he stops. Stops in a second, and laughs again. "Wow Kurt. How desperate do you think I am?" he says, before pulling himself up. "Go home, Kurt," he says as he begins to stumble drunkenly out of the room.

Kurt runs out of there. 


	2. Aftershock

**2: AFTERSHOCK**

When he gets home, Kurt runs off to his room as quick as he can. He managed to clean himself up a little in the school bathroom – stop his nose bleeding, in any case – but it didn't do much, and there is still red splattered on his shirt and his three hundred dollar McQueen sweater is two scraps of fabric in his hand. He needs to get changed, needs to hide the clothes from his dad somehow, needs to _hide this_.

If his dad sees the clothes, he'll know something is up. And if his dad thinks something is up, he will not rest until he finds out what – and he'll ask Kurt, who doesn't know if he can lie straight to his dad's face, not about this.

And that wouldn't be fair, right? Mr. Schuester is a great teacher, and would never have done any of it if he wasn't drunk out of his mind. Nothing really important happened – a few bruises and a bloody nose, but that's not more than Kurt's handled before. Mr. Schuester stopped before he did… did anything…

Kurt shakes his head violently before he runs off to his bathroom, and throws water all over his face. He notices his hands are quaking, and frowns. _Okay, snap_ out _of it, Hummel. Nothing happened. He was drunk and he hit you, and he started with the touching, but he stopped, so you're okay. You're overreacting. Get over it; don't get Mr. Schue in trouble, he's a great teacher, you know that._

Kurt grips the side of the basin as hard as he can, watches as his knuckles turn corpse-like white. He can't contain it anymore – he launches himself off the sink, collapses to his knees by the side of the toilet bowl, and throws up until his throat is raw. He smells wave after wave of his own vomit, which doesn't really help him stop, and he just keeps retching until his stomach is empty and his throat is raw, and the movements turn to dry heaves. Against his will, he starts giving gentle sobs that echo against the bathroom walls.

But nothing really happened, right?

* * *

Will wakes up with the hangover from Hell, and Emma's sweet smile hanging over him. Before can figure out which way is up and whether or not this is bad way to wake up, he decides he really must check where he is, because he can't remember a thing.

He looks around quickly, then winces and holds onto his head. _Ow. Too fast._ However, he does now know he's in his apartment, even if he hasn't a clue how he got there.

"Emma," he says, his voice coming out cracked and croaky, "What's going on? I can't remember anything. How did I get here?"

"I can't say I'm surprised. You were, well, totally shitfaced at school yesterday. Or, uh, after school technically but that's really kind of not the point, because either way I had to drag you back here and I haven't really gotten any sleep, because your couch is _really_ uncomfortable," she babbles, still smiling, and he frowns.

"I was drunk at school…?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says, and the smile fades in an instant. "What the hell were you thinking, Will? It was just after school when I found you; okay, maybe more like half an hour, but who had clearly been drinking for a lot longer than that! We're _teachers_, Will, we can't just show up wasted because we feel like it! We have _duties_ and _responsibilities_, and God, what if Figgins had found out? Or Sue, who would go to Figgins because she hates you? Because, Will, I don't think there's enough matter in the universe to write out exactly how _fired_ you would be."

"Did I hurt anybody?" he asks abruptly, and she blinks.

"No," then she pauses. "Not that I know of, anyway."

He bites his lip, and nods nervously. "You've never seen me drink before, have you, Emma?" he asks, and she shakes her head. "Because I'm… a bad drunk. The more I drink, the worse it gets. When I'm plastered enough I can't even remember what I did, it tends to wind up being really bad – and if I was around the kids…" he trails off, scared and shamed.

Emma bites her lip. "Okay, how about you call in sick today. You've still got the hangover from hell, so showing up? Probably not the greatest way to keep your job. Go, call Figgins."

Will does, and is thankful for the opportunity not to look his students in the eye.

* * *

Kurt fakes being sick day after it happened. He's pretty sure his dad isn't actually buying it, but if he's not, then he's nice enough not to say so, and just leave Kurt in peace.

Because today starts with double Spanish, and that he simply cannot deal with.

* * *

Will returns to school the day after the day after he was drunk, and so does Kurt. Will hears in Glee that Kurt was away yesterday, but doesn't really make anything of it.

Except when Kurt walks through those doors for rehearsal, Will has never seen him look like that – broken and terrified. It makes his breath catch, almost, and all he can think of is that he was drunk, and that he can't remember what he did.

"Hey Mr. Schue," Kurt murmurs, not quite meeting Will's eyes. He pulls some new, expensive sweater closer to his body, and it strikes Will just how tiny he looks.

"Schue, where were you yesterday?" Mercedes says, cutting into Will's paranoid Kurt-centric reverie. "'Cause I spent all that time studying for your test like a crazy woman, and come the day… you just pull the rug out from under me? Not cool, white boy."

"Well, I'm sorry, Mercedes. I will be sure to make it up to you with many, many unnecessary academic trials."

"In your dreams," she says, and the laugh. "But seriously, where did you go?"

Will hesitates, and sees Kurt look down. "I was… sick," he says, and Mercedes raises an eyebrow. Wait, since when is she psychic?

"Really, Mr. Schue?" she asks, and Will sighs in defeat.

"Okay, no, I confess. I was sleeping off humanity's worst hangover. Happy?" he says, and everyone laughs. Even Kurt forces his lips to raise, even though the sound comes out hollow, and it looks obscene. Will almost gets distracted in worry, but manages not to.

"Okay, guys," he says. "Our new number…"

* * *

Once Glee practice is finished, Kurt stalks out, dangerously close to Mercedes side. "Hey, Kurt," Will calls after him, and Kurt reluctantly turns back around.

"What is it, Mr. Schue?" he says coldly, and Mercedes just looks confused.

"Are you okay? During practice today, you seemed kind of… unhappy," he says.

Kurt's stomach tightens and he forces himself to resist the urge to punch his teacher in the face, break down crying like a little girl, or throw up all over everything. "I'm fine," he says brusquely, before storming out in the manner of someone who is quite definitely not. He can't even be sure Mr. Schuester _remembers_ what he did – God, that would suck.

Will watches as Kurt practically runs out of there, and he's really nervous by now. He thinks something happened to Kurt, and he can't help but feel it had something to do with him. He looks toward Mercedes in confusion, but she just shrugs.

"Don't ask me," she says casually. "He's been acting weird all day. He vanished like you did, too, actually – did you get my homeboy drunk, and now he's pissed at you?" she asks with a cheeky smile that shows him she's not taking it seriously.

He shakes his head. "No," he says, although he can't be that sure. "See you, Mercedes," he says and she leaves.

* * *

He goes to Emma's office after that. "I hurt someone," he announces, without any of the usual pleasantries.

She gives a tiny little breathy gasp. "But – what; how, who? Will?"

"Kurt Hummel," he says, avoiding her eyes. He focuses on the fibres of her carpet, wishing she wasn't such a mysophobe, because an interestingly shaped stain could do him a world of good right now. "One of my Glee kids," he says, and he knows that shouldn't make a difference – hurting a student, _any_ student is beyond wrong – but it does. Those kids are meant to be his speciality; his 'Titanic II'; he's pretty sure he's let one of them down spectacularly, and he can't even remember doing it.

"But… what did you do?" she asks, nervously biting on her lip.

"I don't know. I can't remember," he says, and briefly raises his eyes towards her. She looks sympathetic, and that makes him feel slightly nauseous, because whatever happened he's pretty sure he doesn't deserve the pity.

"So what are you _going_ to do?" she asks, and it's a good question. One he simply does not have an answer to.

"I don't know," he whispers. "Emma… I'm terrified," he admits. "What did I do to that kid?


	3. Aid

**3: AID**

Life goes on for a little. Will knows he _should_ ask Kurt what happened, but he's scared of it, and keeps expecting the world to fall in if he does. So he doesn't say a thing, and lets Kurt believe he hasn't a clue that anything's up. Then again, if he's hurt Kurt really badly, maybe the boy thinks he's just faking the amnesia. Will wouldn't blame him.

For his part, Kurt just keeps acting like nothing's wrong. Because he _knows_ Mr. Schue was drunk and stupid; it won't happen again, Schue probably doesn't even remember, and it's not that big a deal. He's overreacting. He knows that; he _has_ to believe that.

At Glee practice, Kurt is moody and withdrawn. Will sees how white his face is, and wonders if he looks that sick too, because he certainly feels that way. "Kurt, what is up with you?" he asks, trying to affect a casual tone. "You'd normally get this in about five minutes."

"Sorry, Schue," he says, looking at the floor and feeling his stomach flip. With his patented teacher sigh, Will walks over to him.

"You got the step all wrong," he says. "It goes-" and he reaches over to Kurt's shoulder, but he flinches away like Will just touched him with a lit fuse.

"Don't touch me!" he blurts out before he can stop himself, and everyone stares. Kurt realizes what he just said, and tries to resist the urge to vomit all over everything. There are a few mind-bendingly painful second where everyone just _looks_ at Kurt, as he desperately searches for an escape. His head is swimming, and he leaps for the on exit route he can see – he gets the hell out of there, sprinting like an Olympic gold medalist.

Will can only watch, helplessly, as he runs.

* * *

Finn walks into the bathroom after Glee practice, still a little unnerved. Kurt's big running act freaked everyone act, and even though they went on with the rehearsal without him, no-one was really okay with what happened.

Finn is surprised to hear muffled sobbing coming from one of the stall. "Dude, are you okay?" he asks, approaching the offending stall. He gently pushes on the door, and finds it unlocked. It swings open to reveal Kurt Hummel, curled in a ball at the foot of the toilet, sobbing his eyes out.

Kurt's entire body freezes as Finn crouches down beside him in concern. "Kurt, what is it?" Finn asks, his voice sounding like it is coming from somewhere far away. God, Kurt didn't want Finn to see him like this – he didn't want _anyone _to see him like this, but Finn least of all.

Kurt doesn't answer, and Finn just stares at him for a few seconds – probably not all that helpful, but he doesn't know what to do. He notices there is a speck of gross green-brown-yellow on the corner of Kurt's mouth, traveling downward. Kurt doesn't seem to have noticed, and knowing Kurt like he does, that worries Finn even more. "Uh, you've got puke on your chin," he says, and unthinkingly, reaches up to tear off a piece of toilet paper.

Finn tries to wipe the vomit away, but Kurt almost leaps away. "Don't!" he exclaims violently.

Finn is struck speechless for a couple of seconds. "Sorry," he says, throwing the paper into the toilet. "I know how you are about your face and keeping it clean, and well, cleanliness in general," he pauses, "Then again, you are curled up next to the toilet, so..."

Kurt doesn't answer. "Dude, what's wrong?" Finn asks, frowning.

"Nothing," Kurt responds automatically, with a hopelessly fake smile. Finn doesn't buy it for a second, but he's not sure what to do.

"Well, uh, given you're crying your eyes out in the boys' bathroom, I'd generally say something _is_ up," he says, and Kurt shakes his head.

"It's stupid," he says, standing up. Finn follows, and pounces on the opportunity.

"A-ha! So there is something," he says, and Kurt rather distinctly avoids his eyes.

"Like I said, it's stupid. I'm completely overreacting to this tiny thing, and I didn't want anyone to see me like this, and I sure as hell don't need your pity," he says, and turns the tap on. He splashes cold water over his face again and again, and Finn notices that his hands are shaking slightly.

"Does this have something to do with why you freaked like that in the middle of rehearsal?"

Kurt freezes. "Just leave me alone, Finn," he mutters, and then he storms out again. Finn watches, until he remembers he should probably turn the tap off.

* * *

Finn is not very good at helping people. He knows this. So if he's going to help Kurt, he's going to need help with _that,_ and that's a little recursive when he thinks about it. But whatever.

Finn wonders who the hell he is meant to talk to about this. Since Kurt freaked in the middle of rehearsal, his fellow glee clubbers have all been aware that something is _up_, but nobody's talking about it – at least a little because everyone thinks Kurt will kill them if they ask. Finn hasn't told them all about how he found Kurt bawling his eyes out, because Finn doesn't really want to panic everybody more.

Finn looks for who to ask for advice – eventually, he decides it's a better idea to ask an adult. One he trusts. So he asks Mr. Schue, because it's Mr. Schue, and since when does that guy not help him?

"Er, hi, Mr. Schue," he begins awkwardly, entering the choir room. Schue is shuffling some sheet music, but no-one else is there. He looks up, and seems surprised to see Finn.

"Hey, Finn," he says with a smile. "What's up?"

Finn shrugs. "Okay, Mr. Schue, honestly? It's about Kurt."

Schuester's smile falls.

"I'm really worried," Finn admits. "I mean, you saw how he freaked and ran off last rehearsal... And after, I kinda, uh, found him in the bathroom. Crying his eyes out. And it had been like an hour or something, so..."

Mr. Schue doesn't react how Finn was expecting. He sighs deeply and buries his head in his hands, almost ashamed. Finn blinks. "Mr. Schue?"

"I screwed up," Mr. Schue murmurs, more to himself than Finn. The boy takes a second to process the comment.

"Wait, you did?" Pause. "Wait, do you actually know what's going on or something? And if you do, could you please tell me, because this whole thing is kind of freaking me out."

Mr. Schuester looks back up. "No. I... don't really know what's happening with Kurt. But from the way he's acting... I'm pretty sure it's all my fault."

Finn shakes his head. "Wait, what? What the hell? Why you?"

"Whenever I'm around, he looks terrified," Will admits.

"Well then, what did you do that could get to him like this?"

"I don't know," says Will. "Okay, Finn, if I tell you something, will you not run off to Figgins and get me fired?" and he knows it will be a bad idea to admit it, but he really wants to panic over everything with someone.

Finn shrugs. "Sure, Mr. Schue."

"Remember a couple of weeks ago, when I skipped a day of school because of the worst hangover in human history?" Finn nods at that. "Well, when I was _getting_ that wasted... I was actually at school."

"Oh."

"And now, I've totally blacked out. Can't remember a thing. And I _know_ I'm a bad drunk; sometimes, Terri would have to tell me what I did and it's just be... And I keep thinking that I did something awful to Kurt, and that's why he's acting like this, and I can't even remember it and try and make it better, and I keep being too much of a coward to just _ask_ what I did."

"Well, given how he acted with me, I'm not really sure he'd tell you if you did just ask."

Will concedes to that point. "I guess not," he says, sighing.

Finn blinks a couple more times. "You're... really scared, aren't you Mr. Schue?"

Will just nods. "Yeah. I am. I think I hurt a student, and that's the one thing that's most important to me as a teacher, making sure my students are _safe_, so this whole thing... kind of like a nightmare."

Finn lets out a little puff of breath, and drums his fingers on top of the piano. "I'm getting this feeling that we've all totally screwed ourselves over."

"Pretty much."

* * *

Eventually, Will decides he needs to suck it up and deal with it. He needs to find out what the hell happened with Kurt, apologize, and _try_ and make things okay. He doesn't know if he possibly can, especially given he has no idea what actually happened, but he should try. He has to fix this, admittedly at least partially because he's so sick of worrying about it, and just wants things to go back to normal. But still.

He manages to get Kurt to talk to him. The boy looks like he'd rather be strapped down on an anthill than here, and Will can't help but notice the way he pulls his clothes closer to him, as if he's trying to hide in them.

"Kurt, hey."

"Hey," Kurt responds weakly. "What is it, Mr. Schue?"

Will sighs. He can't think of a way to smoothly segue into this, so he decides to just blurt it out. "Kurt... what happened two weeks ago? When I was drunk? I know I was at school that day, and with the way you've been acting lately... I need to know."

Kurt involuntarily gasps sharply, quietly. He takes a few steps backs, and Will watches as his hands start shaking and his face turns even paler. "N-nothing," Kurt stammers out.

"Don't lie to me," Will says – practically pleading. "Please Kurt, I need to know."

Kurt shakes his head, subconsciously still inching backwards, away from Mr. Schue. "Nothing happened," he insists, a little louder this time. "I'm sorry if I've been acting weird, scaring you, but there's no need. Nothing happened; I'm fine," and he can't tell the truth. He thinks it might just kill Mr. Schuester, and if he tells the truth, it's like saying that the whole thing is some massive event that they all have to deal with, apologize for, recover from – and it's _not_. It was just this... thing.

"Kurt, I _know_ I did something wrong. Not knowing is kind of killing me over here," he says a little more harshly than he'd like. Kurt is still slowly moving away, and Will has to follow him. "_Tell me_. Just tell me."

Kurt shakes his head, feeling tears brimming at the edge of his eyes, which is stupid, because _nothing happened_. "Nothing, okay? Maybe you've got your issues with your own drunkenness, I don't know, but don't take it out on me."

"Kurt!" Will can't help but yell. "Stop lying! If you're just fine, and I didn't do anything, then why the hell did you storm out like that at Glee? Why were you crying in a bathroom stall for at least an _hour_ afterward?"

Kurt doesn't have an answer for that, so he focuses on the latter bit. "Finn told you," he says with a grimace. "Son of a bitch."

Will rolls his eyes. "He's _scared_, Kurt. We all are. Me most of all."

Kurt shakes his head, still backing away. "Please, Mr. Schue," he says, and the words and begging tone make him feel sick to his stomach. "_Nothing happened._ I just need to – I just... please, Schue. I just want... Please just leave me alone, okay? Nothing happened."

Will hears Kurt's half-coherent babbling, eyes glazed with tears, and he just wants to break down crying. That, or break something. He manages not to, because he _knows_ he's not the victim here. "Listen to yourself Kurt. You're not okay. Just _talk_ to me," he says, and outstretches a hand.

Kurt jumps away. "Stay away from me!" he shrieks, and Will notices how damn _tiny_ he looks. He's almost crying, and has finally backed himself up against the wall. Will notices he's practically looming over the boy, and wants to be sick.

The sound of someone clearing their throat rings out from the doorway. Will turns to look at this person, and feels his stomach sink even further, if that is possible.

Sue Sylvester just stands there, looking smug.


	4. Effects

**4: EFFECTS**

Will Schuester is sitting inside Principal Figgins' office, watching his boss's face turn pale as Sue rages on.

"What we have here is an abuse of power in the most horrific way imaginable – you could practically hear the poor thing screaming for help in Iceland! You know, it's bad enough that the poor kid faces constant abuse because he's an idiot and a walking stereotype who forgot to be gay and survive, you must hide any possible fairy tendencies, but to have him be subject to the same discrimination, and terrorizing behavior from a figure of authority who he could trust and respect – god only knows why – well, I personally will not stand for it."

"Sue," Will chides, trying to pretend she's not a hundred percent right this time. "You don't have the full story. _I_ don't have the full story," and he really shouldn't have said that, because he is _sane_, so he is not going to explain what he knows of the situation to Sue Sylvester.

"Sue, Schue-" Figgins tries to interject, but Sue flattens it.

"Full story!" she barks, disbelievingly. "You're a _child abuser_, William! Hell, whose to say poor Dorothy over there is the first; I betcha we look up your past, and we'll find a whole _trail_ of vulnerable kids, led astray by this man who is _meant_ to educate and care for them!"

"That is it!" Will yells, leaping to his feet. "I'm not entirely sure what's happening with Kurt Hummel, but I have been a _perfect_ teacher for years now, and the idea that _you,_ of all people, can attack me? It's sickening. I will not have my whole life torn to pieces over one mistake I can't even re-"

"Schue! Sue!" Figgins snaps, drawing their attention. "I have already talked to young Mr. Hummel; he told me what the fight was about."

Will involuntarily sucks in a deep breath. "So, what did he say?"

Figgins eyes narrow. "Schue, as of this day you are suspended from teaching at William McKinley High School."

Will thinks his eyes might pop out of his head. "Suspended, what?"

"Suspended? _Suspended? _SUSPENDED?" Sue roars. "This is a crime against humanity; this is a betrayal of the children of today, the most precious and valuable thing in our society! This is a matter for the law enforcement sir; I will follow this up to the supreme court!"

"Sue! Calm down. The boy explained the situation to me," Figgins says, before his eyes narrow on Will again. "As for you, Schue, what on Earth were you thinking? You were _drunk_ on school property; a student found you! You terrified him! You should consider yourself lucky I don't fire you on the spot!"

Will swallows the lump in his throat. "I was drunk? That's all he said?"

Figgins raises an eyebrow suspiciously. "Yes..."

Will chooses not to elaborate. Sue smirks. "Wow, William. The marital strife, the violent temper, now the substance abuse... are you sure you're not a character from a soap opera, magically transported to this dimension?"

Will groans. "_Why_ is she still here?"

"Why are you still here, Schue?" Figgins bites back. "Get your stuff, go home. Your suspension is effective immediately."

* * *

Emma shows up at his apartment a few hours later, an uneasy forced-seeming smile on her face. "Hey," she says.

"Emma. Come in, come in," he responds, surprised. She cautiously allows herself into his home.

"Okay, I have been sent here as unofficial messenger of the school," she admits. "Figgins said he knew you and I had a... connection," she hesitates for a moment, but then pushes that aside. "Anyways, Figgins says he's going to make the suspension as brief as possible. He _is_ pissed at you for being drunk on school grounds, but he thinks we need you – especially the Glee club. So this is kind of a slap on the wrist."

Will's mouth goes dry. "That's not fair," he mutters, and Emma looks confused. "What about Kurt?"

"What about him?"

"Don't play dumb, Emma!" Will snaps. "You and I both know he would _not _be acting the way he is around me if it were just that he found me drunk; something _happened_ and no-one seems to care!"

"We're trying to help!" she yells. "Maybe it _was_ just the drunkenness; the Glee kids look up to you, maybe seeing you like that hurt?"

"Well, that would be convenient."

"It's not all about you Will! People need you. Don't forget that, just 'cause you want to punish yourself some imaginary crime."

Then she storms out.

* * *

At school, there is confusion and stress.

"This is totally unfair," Rachel whines at practice, "Regionals is in a _month_; how, exactly, are we meant to practice without Mr. Schuester here? And some random anonymous bastard just gets him suspended like that; how selfish!"

Kurt grimaces, but nobody notices.

"We won Regionals without Schue, didn't we?" Tina pipes up, phrasing it like she's actually not sure.

"Yeah," Artie says. "Don't overreact. We can do this, though I really don't know what's going on with Schue, maybe something really is up. I don't think he'd just get suspended for no reason – I mean, I half expect it all to be the gross manipulation of Ms. Sylvester, but that's not the point."

Rachel blinks. "So… what was the point? Because I think you tried to say like, fifty different things there, and I don't really get any of them."

"Well, I must say," a voice rings out from the doorway, and turn to find the aforementioned Cherio coach, "I am shocked by the lack of faith in the administration you kids show. Do you really expect me to manipulate the circumstances of Will Schuester, specifically to get him into trouble and bring this pathetic club crumbling to ground?"

"All those in favor of not even dignifying that with an answer, raise your hand," Artie says, and hands shoot up from the glee club members like daffodils. Ms. Sylvester laughs.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Under the wayward eye of that notorious drunkard, William Schuester, I guess you would rather lose sight of the idea that us teachers are meant to care for and protect you. But I want you kids to know that, despite his booze-fueled abuse, we are dedicated to helping you in whatever way possible."

Kurt flinches. "Ms. Sylvester–"

"Drunkard; what?" Rachel asks, and the said woman looks smug.

"Hey, don't take it from me. Ask your buddy over there who was all worked up about it; who wound up blabbing all to Figgins, although I kind of had to catch him and Schue yelling at each other and then _drag_ him to Figgins' office, but oh well," Sue says, indicating Kurt, who looks down. The other glee members all stare at him with a variety of looks – shock, confusion, anger, etc.

Sue pauses. "So he didn't tell you, huh? Sad. I've always thought it's heartbreaking when the victim of anything is made to feel like the bad guy; made to hide their head in shame. I mean sure, this group is in an inherent shambles, and without a teacher guiding you every step of the way you haven't a _chance_ at Regionals, and if you don't place this whole club is over, but that's no excuse."

"Get out," Kurt mutters, still not meeting anyone's eyes.

Ms. Sylvester sighs. "Okay kid. Whatever you say. Just remember – if you're going to complain about anyone screwing over your chance at Regionals, send the high-pitched yapping to him," she points at Kurt and walks out. The glee club lets out a collective breath they didn't notice they were holding.

Rachel is the first one to speak.

"You got Schue suspended?" she hisses, climbing off her chair and approaching Kurt menacingly. "You got _Schue suspended_?"

"Rachel, I can–"

"Explain? Are you completely out of your mind?" Rachel yells, hands flailing about wildly. "We _need_ Mr. Schuester for Regionals, and you just blindly wade in and kick him out over one tiny mistake?"

"Rachel!" Kurt yells, breathing heavy, even though he knows deep down she's right. "It wasn't exactly a plan I formulated in advance. I was pissed, and we got in a fight about it – Ms. Sylvester overheard. She was not kidding when she said she dragged me there – I know, I probably shouldn't have said anything, but I couldn't think of a lie, okay?"

Rachel sniffs at him. "Okay. It was still selfish and short-sighted. If you had such a problem with it, you should have come to us."

"So, is this why you've been acting – no offense – batshit crazy for the last week or so?" Artie interjects.

Kurt swallows. Yeah, that would be best, to just let them believe the whole thing is about Schue being drunk. Nothing really _happened_ after all; he doesn't know why he's reacting like this. "Yeah, I guess."

"Dude. So he was wasted. Whatever, get over it," Puck says scornfully, and Kurt rolls his eyes, even as he feels his stomach turn.

"Well, sorry. I'm trying. It just… got to me."

An awkward silence falls.


	5. Abandonment

**5: ABANDONMENT**

Will does the only thing he can think of to do.

He calls Terri.

"Hello?" she answers, and the way her voice shakes makes him think she hasn't had anyone call her – specifically want to talk _to her – _for months. He almost feels sorry for her, until he remembers what she did and it fades.

"Hey Terri," he says, and she can't conceal a gasp at the sound of his voice. "This doesn't mean I forgive you," he says.

"I didn't think it did," she says, but he can hear the tone of disappointment in her voice. "So why are you calling me, Will?"

He pauses awkwardly. "I'm not really sure," he admits. "Something bad happened, I know that. Someone got hurt. And I keep trying to figure it out, but everyone says I should just let it go, and... the boy I think I hurt, he won't tell me what's going on, and now I'm suspended from work and... I don't know what to do."

On the other end of the line, Terri sighs. "This is why I never let you get drunk. You do these stupid things, and then you can't remember them, and it all goes really bad."

"Did I ever hurt you, Terri?" he asks, sounding plaintive.

"Yeah," she responds a mite too quickly, and he kind of doubts her.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Um, because you know the way you get when drunk?" she shrieks, sounding genuinely offended. "I mean, you were there when you found out about..." and it doesn't sound like she can bring herself to say it. "Anyway, you were scary there Will, and you were sober – do you not think booze could make you worse?"

He swallows. "Starting to remember why we're not together anymore," he says bitterly, even though he knows she has a point.

"Oh well," she says, voice sounding a little broken. "Will, what do you want from me?"

"I don't know."

She sighs. "Okay, honestly – do you want to know what's going on with whoever this boy is, do you think it will help? Or do you want to just ignore it and get on with your life, and let him get on with his, like everyone's suggesting?"

"I... I don't want to deal with it," he says quietly.

She pauses. "You're panicking, because your problems have hurt someone new. It doesn't matter. Just go, Will; bury your head in the sand like you always have, and I betcha the whole thing will be forgotten soon."

* * *

Finn finds Kurt at his locker after the showdown. Various members of the Glee club keep looking at Kurt weirdly – from anger to suspicion to sympathy, it depends.

"Hey Kurt," Finn says, and Kurt smiles back.

"Hey," he says. "So, I assume you are one of the few members of our club delegated to talk to me after how I got our teacher suspended?" he says, that smile faltering rather obviously.

"I don't know what 'delegate' means, but okay, sure," Finn says. "Listen dude, I know everyone's pissed about the thing with Mr. Schue, but... I talked to him a few days ago, like, and he thought something had happened. Like, more than you just finding him drunk. And he can't remember anything, so, I have to ask you... is there something else going on? Something you didn't tell Figgins about?"

Kurt swallows thickly, trying to keep looking Finn in the eyes without giving it all away. "Yeah," he says, and Finn doesn't look like he believes it. Kurt falters slightly. "Okay, he said some... pretty bad things. It doesn't matter. I'll be fine," he lies, and Finn blinks at him.

"You sure?"

"Finn, please, let it go," he says flatly, looking down. Finn can't help but nod.

"Okay," he says, and it's true. He'll let the whole thing go.

_Hey, it's Mr. Schue, how bad can things be?_

Kurt looks visibly relieved, and Finn wanders off, unable to shake the feeling he's just made the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *

Will is allowed to return to school after a few days. His fellow teachers and some of the students still eye him warily, but he thinks he's being regarded rather well, considering. His Glee club all seems overjoyed when they see him back; with the exception of Kurt, obviously, who he hasn't even seen yet (and he doesn't really want to), and who he thinks is avoiding him; and Finn, who always just looks uncomfortable and avoids his eyes. They haven't had rehearsal yet, and maybe that will change things – Will's not sure.

A couple of days before the first scheduled Glee rehearsal since his return, Kurt finds him in the auditorium. "Hi, Mr. Schue," he says quietly, pulling his expensive sweater towards him.

Will can't help but be surprised. "Kurt, hi," he says, and awkwardness hangs in the air between them. "What are you doing here."

Kurt takes in a deep breath. "I wanted to let you know... I'm leaving Glee," he says. Will is struck speechless for a few seconds.

"Oh," he says.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Schue, I just can't," Kurt says, tears in his eyes, and Will can feel how they're avoiding the truth.

"Understandable," he says, even if he doesn't quite understand it, and doesn't really want to. "If you don't want to be a part of Glee anymore, I have no right to force you..." Kurt flinches at those words, and Will tries not to notice. "It's a pity though."

"I'm sorry, I just... You know, I have no time," Kurt lies, and Will nods.

"Okay. But you're an incredible singer; we're going to miss you," he says. He knows he should try one last time to get the truth, but he can't either. How is it fair that his whole life should be defined by one mistake he can't even remember?

Hell, maybe Kurt was telling the truth; he doesn't know.

Kurt sighs. "Thanks," he says. "Find another member before Regionals. Don't let everyone kill me for doing this."

Will nods. "I'll see you, Kurt."

Kurt smiles sadly. "Yeah," he says, then walks out.

Life goes on. Soon, the whole thing is forgotten.


End file.
